


Type

by MakeSadieStop



Series: This Something [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: (And definitely not Tactics because wtf Naruto bad choice), (But not a Paradise because this hallway kinda sucks tbh), Background Kage, Email Conversation, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Kissing, M/M, Makeouts, Mild Sibling Angst, Naruto contain yourself, Not quite sexting because it's not graphic and it's email but, Official Public Meetings, Still dirty I guess, getting caught, sneaking off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 07:40:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11619018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MakeSadieStop/pseuds/MakeSadieStop
Summary: Naruto refuses to miss out on an opportunity, and despite his reservations (plus the inconvenient location), Gaara just can't say no to him. Hopefully I'm better at writing getting-caught and hit-and-miss-dirty-talk scenes than I am at rhyming.It's not really smut and it's not really angst. I don't know.





	Type

Naruto doesn’t bat an eye in the meeting, and Gaara is left to wonder how he does it.

Gokage Summits are still rare enough: only for emergencies, or other matters which concern the entire Alliance. But these are almost monthly. The Kage aren’t _required_ here, only the advisors and the ambassadors, so it makes sense that they only see the oldest of the five when it’s Iwagakure’s turn to host. As Ohnoki groused, if he traveled every few weeks, his creaking bones might just _snap_ —and as Gaara observed the last time he saw the man, “we can’t have that.”

But the Third Tsuchikage was quick to point out that the young Kazekage—and the Hokage, for that matter!—were still spry enough to make _every_ _meeting_ that all their other duties could possibly allow.

Naruto protested for just long enough to be believable. After the meeting, he reminded Gaara over the hiss of shower steam that they needed every alibi they could get. Gaara certainly was not in a position to disagree.

From then on, it has appeared to all the world that they are determined to get all the participation awards they missed out on back at the Academy, when in reality they’re just counting the seconds until a chance to make out in the janitor’s closet.

And yet, with Naruto, you wouldn’t know it to look at him, or to listen. He grins at the Mizukage as he inquires about her new boyfriend, and then dodges the forthcoming blows with the very same ease. He asks the Raikage how his brother has been, and then offers a preview of the rap Lord Bee has to look forward to. He exchanges pleasantries with all the other representatives, and then when it comes time to discuss the issues of the day, he sits down, clasps his hands, and contributes his thoughts just as would any other.

Uzumaki Naruto is such a _natural_ , to barely glance Gaara’s way when his attention ought to be on others, then focus on him with such an intensity as Suna speaks up that there’s no choice but to let Kankuro do all the talking as he gathers himself. You would think that secrecy would be hardest on Naruto of all people, but when it comes to this . . .

It’s almost like Naruto _completely forgets_ what he’s trying to hide, so there just isn’t anything to be uncovered. If _Gaara_ didn’t know—if every molecule of his body didn’t _remember_ —he wouldn’t suspect a thing. To witness that kind of gift is terrifying and thrilling.

Gaara takes notes without knowing what he writes, nods while still unsure of the question. But Kankuro is tersely smiling at his shoulder, and Temari has not moved to stop the proceedings, so he assumes that all is well.

Then he is standing from his chair, inclining his head where expected, thanking the Mizukage for her village’s hospitality.

In this moment, he is conscious of three simultaneous trains of thought. First, an apology for Naruto’s earlier crudeness, left unspoken because how would he explain how he knows that it must be exaggerated, and does he even know that for sure? Second, a vague sense of gratitude that this particular meeting is informal as it is, meaning that he does not have to wear the Kazekage’s headpiece, so unwieldy to wear and even more inconvenient to carry. And finally, the constant undercurrent, that shimmering, pulsating buzz down his spine, the one that he was impressively unaware of today _right up until_ he first heard Naruto’s voice.

When Naruto brushes past him, it surges until he must clench his fist to stop from shaking.

“Hallway on the left? Stagger.”

He is gone. It is time to wait. Gaara takes orders well, from him.

Gaara counts the seconds by the number of people leaving. Then he taps Kankuro’s shoulder.

“Please excuse me.”

“Where do you have to be?”

“A conversation.”

“In private?”

“Don’t worry about supervising me. Supervise Shikamaru.”

When Kankuro starts to balk, Gaara reaches up and carefully turns his painted chin in Shikamaru’s direction.

“So you mean supervise our sister.”

“Our sister can handle herself. But if she feels the need to beat him up, it’s your job to hold his arms behind his back.”

Gaara leaves Kankuro to narrow his eyes at Shikamaru and those impossibly pointy new bristles of a goatee. He does not take his gourd from the floor, which leaves him free to skulk his way into that hall.

“You came!” The dim lighting urges Naruto to whisper, even as he clasps his hands in delight.

“Isn’t it a little early for that?”

Gaara is proud that he blushes lightly enough that it is hidden in the darkness. He is even prouder of the shock in Naruto’s face.

“Did you just—” Naruto shakes his head, apparently convinced that the Mist village has put water into his ears. “Did you just make a _sexual_ —”

“Why am I here?”

The interruption helps Naruto to recover his wits. He chuckles, he c— _tilts_ his head to one side, he puts his hands on his hips.

“Well, you _know_ I have all _kinds_ of plans for you.”

His smile glints smugly.

It is the glorious return of the chakra-breath pipe. Gaara is impressed with himself when he manages to wheeze, “Specify.”

“Mm, nah. Don’t think I will.” Naruto makes sure that the dismissive hand wave is in the light, right where Gaara can see it and fight the urge to bite it.

“But it isn’t Suna’s turn, and it isn’t Konoha’s turn, and it won’t be for a while. We don’t have an excuse to stay at an inn, and even less of one to share a room. So I was thinking . . .”

He trails off, with a little trill at the end, and that says everything.

“ _What_ -?”

“I’m not _completely_ stupid. Your pants are staying on, relax. But I need _something_ to get me through to the next meeting—”

Naruto takes the most _careful_ step, towards him, out of the light. Gaara can’t see him, but he can hear every last deliberate click-tap-pad, growing ever closer.

“And the next—”

Gaara’s back hits the wall. At least his body still has some deeply-buried evolutionary sense of self-preservation. But its plans for escape are flawed, because now his spine is rigid, pinned here from either side by the waist.

“And the _next_ . . .”

Gaara imagines that each kiss to his neck helps punctuate the ellipsis hanging in the air.

His hands have already risen up, palm out, fingers clawed, like he’s pleading for Naruto to slow down, warding off the contact. Once he stops them from shaking, he forcibly pushes Naruto’s head back and up—to a disappointed huff and a visible pout.

He’ll just have to deal with it. Gaara has conditions.

“ _Your_ _pants_ —stay on, too.”

Naruto considers it.

“I’ll take what I can get,” he concedes.

Before Gaara can extract a more convincing promise, it’s his head’s turn to hit the wall. Or so he fears it will, with that kind of force, but Naruto is already cradling his head. No, that’s not the right word this time, because instead he’s pulling Gaara forward, insistently tugging skin into skin, melding them together until oxygen deprivation has addled Gaara enough that he wonders if it’s possible for two people’s mouths to get stuck like this, permanently, and then decides with a faint giggle that he might not actually mind.

It triggers a wheezing laugh from Naruto, too, and clearly Gaara has started a chain reaction, because now they must take breaks to laugh together. Even in between those breaks, any illusions of control have disappeared. They are both laughing so hard that Naruto starts _missing_ , reaching the corner of Gaara’s mouth instead. After about the third time in a row that Naruto’s kiss hits his jaw, without even a pretense of the lips, Gaara realizes that nobody’s aim could be this bad on accident.

“Not my shirt, either.”

Naruto waits for the fit to subside so he can be properly dramatic about it. He puts a hand to his chest to show that he’s wounded (and he probably is sore from all that laughing). “What, so it’s not enough to jump to conclusions, huh? You can’t even let me have any fun?”

Then they’re kissing. No fair. He didn’t even give Gaara a chance to be mock-indignant. But it’s such heaven that before long, another laugh is going to bubble up against Gaara’s will. He fights it, takes two fistfuls of Naruto’s hair—soft, somehow, it doesn’t have the stiff product exoskeleton that you would expect maintains all those spikes. The desperate clutching is meant to ground him, to keep control, but this added _connection_ only heightens _everything_ and he’s sure that they really will glue themselves together this way, bodies inseparable with atomic force—

At the end of the hallway, someone just cleared his throat.

Naruto leaps back to the opposite wall, trying to look casual while he smooths himself down, but no one is enough of a natural for this.

Gaara wipes his mouth and prays that no one saw why.

Then everyone is staring at everyone, until Naruto decides to lighten the mood. “Thanks for not wearing lipstick, Gaara. This could be _way_ more awkward.”

 _Not fucking likely_. But Gaara bites his tongue, even though it’s already sore from when Naruto did that for him. He is clearly already a whore in his sister’s eyes, so he doesn’t want her to know that he’s any other form of vulgar.

The sister and her suitor exchange glances and nods. They’ve decided who will shout at who tonight.

“Let’s get you home, Lord Seventh.” It must be a trick of the shadows, because otherwise, how did Shikamaru grab Naruto’s shoulder so fast? “It’ll be a drag, but maybe on the way back, you really could pick up some lipstick _for Hinata_.”

Shikamaru’s voice lazes as usual until he takes two painfully emphasized words to offer a preview of the travel conversation.

Gaara does not watch as they leave. Even if he can practically _hear_ Naruto’s guilt-ridden stare.

He crosses his arms, turns his head to the floor, and waits his turn.

***

It wouldn’t have been the first time that Temari has shouted at a brother. Kankuro isn’t Kazekage, so he knows this _best_ out of the two of them, but Gaara still knows.

But she did not shout. And that was worse.

Gaara wishes more than all but one thing to forget it all, but a single line is stubborn.

“He’s hurt you before, Gaara. And _before_ , he wasn’t engaged.”

Of course she would know. His siblings were firsthand witnesses to _before_. They’d picked him up sobbing from his kitchen floor, crushed him in an embrace as he choked out the truth, locked his gourd away so he wouldn’t crush himself when they let go.

“There’s no heart in this to break. If he leaves, I’ll take up knitting, or running, or drinking. _This_? This is nothing but stress release.”

They know all the other truths, and that is why Gaara had to lie.

It’s only fair. They lied, too, when they told him they believed him. All the facepaint and smiles in the world couldn’t hide their doubt.

But perhaps it’s not fair, because Gaara is lying again. There won’t be a meeting for weeks, and he can’t last until then. As he makes his choice, crouching over the desk, the screen lights up his bedroom to cast a sickly glow over it all. It turns the white sheets blue, infects the bed they once shared.

If he does this right, it will be clandestine, much more so than a hawk. He pulls the curtains so no one outside will see the painful bright white of the window. Then he takes a breath and eases into his chair.

The desktop allows him to work even when he feels too exhausted or worthless or both to get dressed. After the events of _before_ , it wasn’t hard to convince Temari and Kankuro that he needed one here, so he could adjust slowly back to his usual schedule by doing paperwork in private—and, well, not on paper. But this is not for work.

Naruto has one, too. He’s seen it. This is just to talk to him—not _really_ talk, but to check that he’s alright. Earthy brown fingers poise over black keys.

It takes some navigation, but eventually it’s in.

 _Thinking of you_.

Gaara sits there and waits. Then he unfolds his hands and smacks himself right on the _love_ for spending so long waiting. It’s an ungodly hour, and it’s been a week since they were discovered. There’s a good chance Shikamaru is monitoring all his devices for further infidelity. Besides, Gaara never even _done_ this before, so why would Naruto be checking—

On the twentieth compulsive refresh, there is a new boldfaced heading. Bracing himself, he opens it.

Naruto’s e-mails are composed as if by a teenage girl. That is no surprise.

But the text itself is . . . more mystifying.

_good boy <3 and what r u wearing while you think of me? ;)_

Gaara finds himself squinting, and it is not because he is unaccustomed to the electronic glare. Or because Naruto is using such a messy font. Or because the so-called ‘winky face’ has been defined as ‘the slut of text-based emoticons.’ Or any other of a number of things.

_Not only am I nine months older than you, but it is 3AM and I am obviously wearing **pajamas**. Should I ask?_

Gaara sends it and braces himself again, because while that is a perfectly acceptable manner in which to express his confusion, he would be willing to bet money that Naruto will accuse him of being a geezer.

_siiigh. :/ nobody ever taught u to talk dirty?_

There are two things necessary to process here. The first is that, in an e-mail, it is acceptable to literally say ‘sigh.’

The second is that _holy shit_. Naruto should not be communicating with anyone at this hour.

_No._

It seems short, but it is honest, and it would be rubbing salt in a wound to add a thumbs-down emoji.

_haha! no surprise._

Gaara’s shoulders tense at what he is sure must be an insult, or a misguided attempt to flatter his innocence. But he grits his teeth and keeps scrolling through the message.

_i better teach u. lemme add it to my to-do list._

Naruto has a to-do list?

No. He couldn’t ever keep himself that organized.

_That would be ill-advised. Shikamaru manages your to-do list, doesn’t he? Or at least double-checks it, I’m sure. What would your explanation be? Unless you used enough abbreviations to make it indecipherable._

_omg. ok. max syllable count for one word in email, btw, is 3. indecipherable is waaay 2 much. its like the word doesn’t even want to be understood._

Gaara diplomatically neglects to point out the irony there. That’s for him and his subconscious alone to appreciate.

Instead, he gently steers the conversation back to the original concern.

_You didn’t answer me. How would you put such a thing on your to-do list when I’m sure that your **itinerary** is monitored by at least three Konoha departments?_

Gaara did it on purpose. He gleefully awaits retribution.

_ass. i dont mean my REAL to-do list._

Gaara can practically hear the dramatic pause.

_Color me intrigued._

As he reads the reply, he is surprised enough when Naruto doesn’t call him out for the idiom. That occupies his thoughts for the longest time until he processes what _is_ being said.

Now he knows how this computer feels, when the processor overheats and the screen freezes and _somehow_ there is no less contradictory description for the simultaneous events.

_it’s short for Ways-To-Do-Gaara List._

There’s an apostrophe and capitalization and everything. Naruto did this _on purpose_ and until this exact moment Gaara had no idea that it was possible to want to _punch_ someone and then _kiss_ him and then do _more_ than kiss him and he must stop himself before he _wants_ any further because Naruto isn’t even here.

Five minutes pass in this way. Gaara has covered his mouth with both hands, because it is three o’clock in the morning and neither screams nor groans are appropriate for this hour, and also because he doesn’t want his computer to see him in this state of furious red indecency.

Five minutes more, and he is struggling to pinpoint the source. It’s the frustration that Naruto still has this power over him, all those kilometers away, with just a handful of twisted words. It’s the indignation that a word as simple and crude as ‘do’ can signify an experience so complex and—and— _something_. And it’s the suggestion that makes him fly to so many places that not even a private browser would condone.

Ten minutes total, going on eleven, and Gaara has taken no measures to retaliate. Naruto is convinced that he has won, he’s sure of it. That cannot be allowed.

He redirects his hands’ defensive efforts to the keyboard.

_Can you send me a copy?_

Gaara is no natural, but he has every intention of making Naruto beg.

**Author's Note:**

> And without further ado, I'll start from the top.  
> I struggled a bit with the opening scene, just because there are so many complications with the Gokage. Did anybody retire? Have relations changed? But according to the wikis, none of the other three Kage (Earth, Water, Lightning) retired until about the time of Boruto, so I just went with the ones in Shippuden with pretty much the same relationship dynamics. I'm not really confident in my representation of any characters except for Naruto and Gaara, so even though lots of characters are /present/ in this, nobody really got a /scene/. (When it comes to tagging, I only counted a character if they had at least one line /in quotes/.)  
> There's a little bit of humor with how the sandy boys regard Shikamaru's relationship with their sister. Temari truly can take care of herself, but they're not above standing by and waiting to offer help if needed. Even though Gaara mostly wanted to distract Kankuro for long enough to run off and have funtimes--shame on him--the feelings at the center are genuine.  
> I really wish I could have spotlighted the Sand Siblings a little more with their own section of concern and angst in the middle, but alas, writing a whole scene just seemed unwieldy, not to mention I felt like I was just rehashing that intermission in Save. You're left with silence and flashback. At the moment, I feel like that actually works well to highlight the current relationship dynamic--the honesty between Gaara and the pair of them has degenerated noticeably since this affair began.  
> I feel like you deserve an explanation for basically the entire second scene. A very dedicated reader (hi there!) mentioned how Gaara and Naruto are so addicted to each other, even though they're avoiding their feelings, and I wanted to take some more time to highlight that yet again: they're having a conversation, just because Gaara /needs/ to see him, and yet they never do more than touch upon what happened the last time they saw each other. Since, by Boruto, technology in the Ninja World is /great/, I thought it wouldn't be amiss to include that element. (Naruto absolutely does type like a teenage girl and I will fight for this.)  
> Plus, it gave me the opportunity for /that ending/. How Gaara has a little bit of boldness and a little bit of resentment and a whole lot of previously-latent sex drive all swirled together and /pow/. If you spotted the recurring theme and the reference to at least one past work, you get a cookie. Feel free to do the rest of the psychoanalyzing for yourself, since I think I'll run out of space here if I try.
> 
> Finally for the title! I almost forgot. I really love double meanings. It applies in both sections as a noun, how Naruto and Gaara have different abilities, capacities, personalities and ways to cope--making them different /types/. And of course, it's a very obvious verb in the second.
> 
> The next one should see them reuniting, in person, and probably working out all the tension that they'll be building over email . . .  
> Yikes.


End file.
